


I Can Fly Us Both

by Kellyscams



Series: Kells' Fic Fest [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Dogs, Tenderness, let's just pretend that Civil War is not happening at all, resolved tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6328828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past year or so, Steve's been Bucky's rock, his support, his shoulder to cry on. But now that Bucky's doing so much better, he's noticed something. Steve is in need of just as much support -- needs a rock and a shoulder to cry on. If he'll let <i>someone</i> in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Fly Us Both

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: okay but Steve post winter soldier isn't dealing with any of his own shit because he's so focused on bucky and also because he's a stoic asshole so give me bucky and others trying to get Steve to deal with his own issues for a change (if there's smut bottom!Steve please but smut is not a necessity for this prompt) thank you so much!!!

Something isn’t right with Steve. It hasn’t been -- probably for a long time -- but Bucky’s only noticed recently. He could kick himself for not noticing earlier, but, well, the past year _has_ been a little hectic. Sometimes it’s hard to notice things are wrong with other people when you’re on the run from an evil organization and your own government. Then the road to recovery from seventy years of brainwashing after all that chaos has been long and winding. With setbacks and relapses and unexpected twists and turns. 

And Steve. There at Bucky’s side every step of the way. Through every symptom, every nightmare, every panic attack. As a rock, a shoulder to cry on, a hug when Bucky thought that was the last thing he needed when in reality it was the best thing for him. He paid attention to when Bucky skipped meals and when he was sleeping too much or not enough. He’s sat with him during weeks of silence and then listened whenever Bucky was ready to talk. 

Steve has been there to pick Bucky back up when Bucky isn’t sure if he can do it on his own. Steve has held him together when he was sure he’d fall apart. Steve has helped him pick up the broken pieces of a scattered life to give Bucky the chance to live again. 

Now, Bucky’s determined to prove to himself that if he can’t be the man he was before the Winter Soldier, before Hydra, before the war, that he can still have a life worth living. And he’s doing it. He’s an official member of the Avengers. Bucky goes with the team on missions and gets the job done and no longer sinks into the mind of the soldier he once was. He smiles and laughs and jokes around and loves. Loves. Oh, does he remember how to love. That’s something they’re taking slowly. Their love, which needed to be hidden so long ago, they can show the world now. Which might be the reason Bucky’s finally noticed the fact that Steve is suffering nightmares. 

It happened about a week ago. When Bucky stumbled out of bed in the middle of the night to get himself a glass of water and heard a whimper from the living room. The whimper came from Steve, who must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. He was completely curled up in a tight ball, his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw locked. Steve’s hands were clenched to fists and every few seconds he’d whimper again. Bucky placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Gently shook him awake.

“Steve?” Bucky shook a little harder. “Stevie, come on wake up.”

When Steve’s eye flew open, he nearly fell off the couch. He threw himself up and grabbed his chest and then stared at Bucky like he was a ghost.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “It’s me. You okay?”

Steve scrubbed hands over his face and shook his head out before getting to his feet and taking a few deep breaths. 

“I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. 

He isn’t fine. 

Bucky’s not sure if he’s really been fine since he woke from the ice nearly four years ago. 

Despite all of Steve’s assurances that he’s fine, Bucky’s been noticing more and more that he’s most definitely _not_ fine. 

It’s… little things. Things that would probably escape the average person’s attention. But Steve’s not drawing. Not really anyway. Not the way Bucky knows he would be if he was as fine as he claims. There’re tons of sketchbooks around, but most of them only have a few doodles and sketches in them. Which is even more strange since Steve will sometimes excuse himself from a perfectly nice evening with the claim that he wants to work on a painting or drawing. 

Steve is withdrawn. Not completely, but just enough that he doesn’t _fully_ participate in conversations and good times. He’ll laugh at something that’s funny, but it’s not the way Bucky knows him to laugh. His eyes don’t crinkle the way they should and he’s body doesn’t shake. Bucky’s not sure if anyone else would even know the difference. Maybe Steve’s never even laughed like that in years. The thought makes his stomach hurt. 

Bucky can remember Steve lighting up with excitement when little kids would see him and ask for his autograph. They’d hop around and he’d get down to their size to chat with them for a minute or two, and Bucky always knew it was those moments that made him most convinced that he did the right thing by becoming Captain America. 

“I look at them and I see hope,” Steve had once said. “They make it all worth everything.”

Now, whenever Steve is spotted by a group of young kids, he’ll smile and he’ll be polite and he signs anything they give to him and they go away just as excited as they came, but there’s something missing. Hope, Bucky thinks. It’s… just not there. 

Recently, Steve’s been spending more and more time in the gym. Too much time. Like he’s trying to just wear himself down and block out all the thoughts that he doesn’t want to have. He’ll work himself to the bone. Until sweat soaks through every inch of his shirt and pants and drips down his skin and dampens his hair. Which, for Captain America, can take hours and hours. 

And then the nightmares. 

Almost every night. 

Now that Bucky knows about them, he tries to be available for Steve in the morning. Sometimes even the middle of the night when Bucky’s awake and hears Steve crying out from the horrors of his mind. But no matter how available Bucky makes himself -- for company or to talk or just _anything_ \-- Steve simply insists that there’s nothing wrong. 

Shouldn’t really come as a surprise. The punk was always a stubborn mule when it came to getting help for himself. That hasn’t changed in all this time. Back then, it was easy to see what was wrong. A banged up face and cut knees and bloody noses. Ice, cloths, bandages. A pat on the back. Maybe a night of cuddling. That’s what it took back then to patch Stevie back up. 

This is different though. Different than getting in too deep over his head in a back alley scrap for whatever noble thing he didn’t back down about. Steve is hurting. And Bucky doesn’t know how to patch him up anymore. 

***

The first person Bucky goes to for help is Sam. Sam seems to be the one who knows Steve best nowadays. They’ve been through a lot together -- traipsing around together as they tried to track Bucky down -- and Sam’s got similar life experiences. War. Loss. Grief. Maybe he can give Bucky some advice on how he can help Steve. 

But Sam, as it turns out, has been trying to help Steve all along. 

“I’ve been trying to get him to come to meetings down at the VA,” Sam tells him. “He’s gone to one or two, but…”

“Doesn’t stick with it?” Bucky assumes. 

Sam nods. “Was he always…”

“Yes,” Bucky agrees. “I’m surprised you noticed there was anything wrong at all.”

Chuckling, Sam shrugs. Then he sighs and rubs his eyes. Sam looks tired. And worried. He’s probably been worried about Steve for some time now and there’s been nothing he can do about it. 

“I can’t force him,” Sam says. “I’ve told him about Riley and how the VA helped after that. But he’s got to do it for himself.”

“I know. Thanks, Sam,” Bucky murmurs. Even reaches out and gives Sam’s hand a squeeze. Sometimes he wonders if Sam does the same thing Steve does. Sure, he goes to the VA, but… that doesn’t mean he can’t use a friend or two between that. “You know, I know I’m not… the best… option…” How could he be? He’s attacked Sam before. Almost killed him. And then he still went off with Steve to try to find Bucky. To save him. “But if you ever…” He sighs. “You ever want…”

Bucky stops when Sam turns his hand and gives it the same kind of squeeze. A smile tugs on the corners of Sam’s lips. Bucky returns the smile and, for the first time since knowing each other, they don’t need words.

Bucky tries Natasha next. After Sam, she seems the most logical choice. After all, she did team up with Steve to take down the very organization that she considered to be her family. But given the painful past she carried around with her, it isn’t any wonder that she’s feeling a bit helpless herself. 

“I don’t…” This must be hard for her to admit. She gives Bucky a dark chuckle. “I’ve spent a lifetime building up walls. Building trust with lies and half-truths. It’s… _hard_ for me to… use more conventional means.”

She wants to. Bucky can see that much. Natasha knows that Steve isn’t dealing with the issues that have him tossing and turning every night. There aren’t many people in this world that can understand what Bucky’s been through. Being turned into a weapon and having no control of the trigger. But Natasha comes close. Probably the closest. 

“He trusts you, you know,” Bucky says. “Steve, I mean.”

The normal nonchalance that Natasha tries to always put forward slips away for just a moment. Replaced with an honored and delighted smile. After a few seconds, she regains the control she prefers to maintain over herself and clears her throat. 

“Well…” She has to clear her throat once more to keep her voice in check. “If it makes any difference, I trust him, too.”

“Believe it or not,” Bucky says, “I bet it does.”

The world is filled with people that the Black Widow doesn’t trust. To be on the short and exclusive list of people she _does_ trust is a privilege in and of itself. Something that Steve definitely takes to heart. 

“Hey, Iron Giant,” Tony greets when he lets Bucky into the lab. 

Tony seems the next logical choice. Despite the butting heads and bickering that goes on between him and Steve, the two would kill for each other. Die for each other, even. 

“Stark.” Bucky nods at him and then smiles softly at the person across the room. “Dr. Cho.”

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes,” she answers. “How can we help you?”

Honestly, there were only a few people that Bucky had considered talking to about this, and Helen Cho wasn’t on that list. However, it makes sense to include her. For one, Steve trusts and thinks highly of her. Second, she’s a doctor. A damn good one at that. She’s the only doctor that Steve would let near Bucky for a while. 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about Steve,” Bucky tells them. “You got a minute?”

“For Cap?” Tony remarks. Sits on a metal stool, spins around once on it and holds out a bag of pretzels for Bucky to take one if he wants. “You can take two minutes.”

Taking one pretzel, Bucky turns it over in his hands for a second before looking back at the pair of them. 

“It’s just… I don’t think… he’s okay.” Bucky puts the pretzel down on the lab table. “I’m not sure what to do. But I know he’s not doin’ good.”

For a few minutes, no one says anything and Bucky wonders if they don’t get what he means. Both Sam and Natasha knew what he was hinting at immediately. But Tony and Dr. Cho exchange a glance and then just look back at him without responding. 

When the silence is too much, Bucky says, “What? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

Before answering, Dr. Cho starts pulling up some program and Tony gestures for Bucky to follow him over there. Once Dr. Cho is done with what she’s doing, she turns the screen around towards Bucky and Tony. 

“You remember what an antidepressant is, right, Sergeant Barnes?” She asks. 

“Um.” They talked about him using them once, but the serum that’s running through him -- even the dulled down one he has -- burned them off too quickly to even begin to work. “Yeah?”

“And you know how yours and Cap’s super bodies pretty much laugh at that,” Tony says, and points to the formulas on the screen. “This here’s a new one. The start of a new one. One that… let’s say, certain super soldiers might be able to use. To just…”

“Help out a bit,” Dr. Cho says. 

Bucky’s eyes scan over the information on the screen in front of him. To be honest, he doesn’t quite understand what all that says, but he _does_ understand what it means. And he smiles at what’s happening here. 

“You two… did this for Steve?”

Dr. Cho just grins shyly and goes back to work while Tony gives an indifferent shrug of his shoulder and tosses a pretzel into his mouth. 

“Y’know, whatever keeps the big guy from moping.”

Something warm fills Bucky as he leaves the lab. Smiling. 

If anyone knows about having their mind completely taken over and being forced to do horrible thing it’s Clint. Clint was actually one of the firsts -- the first being Steve -- that Bucky really talked to about what such a thing is like. They didn’t have some night long heart to heart or anything. In fact, they sat in a coffee place for about two hours, talked about the brainwashing thing for about twenty minutes of that, and then Bucky spent the rest of the time listening to a slew of bad jokes and horrible puns. They’ve been buddies ever since. 

And when Bucky catches up to Clint, he finds himself have brochures and pamphlets and flyers shoved at him. 

“I took ‘im once,” Clint is saying. “Cause I just wanted him to… aw, paper!” He whines when he fumbles with a stack and they fall to the ground. “Anyway, I wanted to show him. Y’know his options. There’s a whole bunch of different breeds. Small ones and big ones. All trained. Just for this.”

“Barton,” Bucky interrupts as he tries to keep hold of all the things Clint’s stuffed in his arms. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Oh.” Clint takes a step back and chuckles. “Service animals. Dogs. I help run the program upstate. Laura founded it.”

“Yeah, but…” Bucky shakes his head. “Isn’t that for people who need help physically?”

“Not just.” Now Clint is fishing through all the pamphlets Bucky’s holding. He selects one in particular and holds it up for Bucky to see. “They have them for PTSD, too. It can be a big help.”

Bucky quickly reads the main points that are being shown to him. Like how a service trained dog can provide a sense of security and have lots of calming effects on someone suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He goes on to read what they’re trained to do. Assistance in a medical crisis -- chances are Steve won’t need that. Provide treatment related assistance -- maybe he could use that. Assistance in coping with emotional overload… Bucky reads that one twice because if there’s anything Steve needs help with, it’s that one. 

“And you took Steve to see a dog?” He asks.

Clint stretches his lips in that _well_ -not-exactly sort of way. “Well… I just… _brought_ him with me there. Didn’t tell ‘im why. I hoped that maybe…”

“That it would put the idea in his head,” Bucky assumes. “But it didn’t.”

Or maybe it did and Steve just didn’t do anything about it. Or didn’t know _what_ to do about it. Or just what to do at all. 

Gathering all the flyers Clint’s given to him, Bucky says his thanks and wonders if Steve might be up for another trip to this place. This time with more obvious reasons. 

Rhodey hands him a list of names and numbers. Staring at it for a second -- reading over all the names and not recognizing any of them -- Bucky shrugs and looks back up at him. 

“I don’t get it,” he admits. “What’s this?”

“This is a list of the best military therapists in the area.” He taps his finger over one of the names. “She’s the one I’ve seen. Best in her field. I brought her over once to introduce Steve to her.”

“And what happened?”

According to Rhodey, he brought her up and told Steve what it was she did, but all Steve did was greet her and thank her for all she’s done for the service men and women. They all sat and had lunch together, and Rhodey says that she did outright suggest that Steve could come see her any time. 

“He took her card and he thanked her, but… as far as I know, he’s never called her.”

No, he hasn’t. Bucky’s sure of that. He sighs and folds up the paper that Rhodey’s taken the time to prepare for him. 

“You know,” Rhodey says. “I, uh, I know what it’s like.”

“What what’s like?”

“When you know your best friend needs you but they won’t let you in.” The both of them look towards the lab where Tony’s still working. “It can be… frustrating.” Rhodey scoffs with a shake of his head. “More than that. It can be downright infuriating. It takes a strong person to stick around and stay at it. But…” He pats Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself. You’ve come a long way.”

That’s actually part of the problem. Even when Bucky does have a bad day and feels the world crushing him underneath its weight, he has Steve to fall back on. The trouble here is getting Steve to let Bucky -- or any one of this mismatched and ragtag family full of so much love -- to share the burden. 

Everyone’s been trying to hard in their own way to give Steve the help he needs. To make him see that he doesn’t need to be so strong all the time. That there are so many people who are very willing to lift him up if he needs to fall. 

Thing is, the one person he ever let himself fall in front of, was Bucky. A lot of things have changed, but maybe seventy years hasn’t changed that. If Bucky can get Steve to open up to him, than maybe, just maybe, Steve’ll start to open up to love the rest of the team has been trying to show him. 

***

Steve is sitting on the couch when Bucky gets back. The television is on and one of Steve’s sketchpads is in his lap, but he’s not paying attention to either. When Bucky closes the door behind him, Steve shakes his head like he’s been startled awake and looks over. Smiles softly. 

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just around,” Bucky answers. Goes to join Steve on the couch. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs and turns the television off. “Wanna get dinner ready?”

He’s putting his sketchpad to the side and already standing up. Ready to head into the kitchen to throw something together. 

“Actually,” Bucky says. “Sam and Tasha said something about making burgers. Clint and Laura have the kids here, so Pepper and Tony will be there, too. So will Rhodey. Maybe we can just go down and eat with everyone?”

A few months ago -- hell, even _weeks_ ago -- Steve would’ve jumped with joy at Bucky suggesting and wanting to join everyone for a meal. For anything, really. Now that it’s a bit more commonplace, it frazzles him. Steve blinks a few times as his mind seems to process and come up with a response. 

“Oh.” Another long pause. Then, “Yeah. If… that’s what you want. Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. Um.” Steve’s abandoned his trip to the kitchen and has started towards the door. “But, uh, well I got that piece I wanted to get started on.” He jerks his head at the sketchpad he wasn’t using when Bucky came back. “So, I dunno if I’ll stay long. And I was gonna go to the gym…”

“I thought you were gonna cook dinner?”

It’s clear that that catches Steve off guard. He fumbles a bit as his mouth attempts to form words. None come out. Bucky knows what he’s doing. Steve is already distancing himself. Giving Bucky an excuse to pull away again. It’s the same sort of thing Bucky used to do. When he was starting to do better but didn’t quite know what to do with that. 

“Yeah…” Steve nods. Comes up with something to say, and Bucky can see the moment it happens. “But if we don’t have to cook, I can use the time down at the gym.”

More like, he can go to the gym and add that he’s tired to the list of reasons why he’ll cut dinner short. If he goes at all. 

“Steve?” Bucky says right when Steve’s at the door. “I… I need your help.”

And just like that, Bucky has Steve’s full attention. He comes straight back over to the couch without Bucky even asking him to and he sits and looks so concerned for Bucky that it just about breaks Bucky’s heart. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Not exactly. I wanted to talk about you.”

“Me?” Steve’s eyes go wide. That concern is still there, but it shifts enough to make room for suspicion. “Did I do something?”

That’s the problem. While Steve’s been a sheer wonder in helping Bucky, he’s forgotten about taking care of himself. Not that that’s anything new, but he used to have Bucky to have his back. To give him that subtle push when he needed it most. The Avengers have been trying, but Steve hasn’t responded. Now it’s up to Bucky. 

“No, no. Steve, I… you know you can talk to me, right?”

Steve’s eyebrows pull in. “I… I do talk to you, Buck.”

“I mean…” Bucky scoots closer. Gathers Steve’s hands in his and kisses his knuckles. “You can tell me if there’s something wrong.”

When Steve tries to take his hands back, Bucky doesn’t fight him. He knows what it’s like to have every wall put up. Keep them hard and strong. If he wants to help Steve, it can’t be with a sledgehammer. Those walls have to come down gradually. Brick by brick. 

“Yeah, but…” Steve turns away and faces the television. Looks at it even though it’s off. “Nothing’s wrong. So--”

“Steve…”

“Bucky, I’m fine.”

He delivers his statement with a strained smile and a nod. As though adding that gesture will somehow make his lie more believable. At this point, Bucky’s not sure that Steve doesn’t believe his own lie. 

“You’re not fine, Steve. I see that. _Everyone_ sees that.”

That has Steve’s face falling. Bucky can see the question behind Steve’s eyes. _Everyone_? Everyone used to just be Sarah and Bucky. Then just Bucky. Then came Peggy and the Commandos, though Bucky’s not sure if Steve ever understood just how much he meant to all of them. Maybe he felt Peggy’s love, but Bucky’s sure Steve doesn’t know how much love he has right here in the twenty first century. 

Bucky says, “They’re worried about you, Steve. _I’m_ worried about you.”

“But, Bucky…” Steve sighs and shakes his head. “I’m _fine_. I’m tellin’ ya.”

“I’m _here_ for you, baby,” Bucky replies instead of arguing with that. “I’m right here. You don’t always have to be so strong. You can let me take care of--”

“You took care of me almost my whole life,” Steve huffs and rises to his feet again. “I don’t need--”

“I know you don’t _need_ ,” Bucky interrupts, even if he thinks Steve _does_ need someone to take care of him for a bit. “But I’m _here_. I’m _right here_.”

“I know. Thanks. I’m fine though.” He’s walking back to the door. “I’m gonna go to the gym. I’ll, uh, meet you for dinner.”

“Steve?” Bucky gets up and just stays by the couch. “Before you go… can I have a hug?”

He opens his arms before he even finishes his question. It’ll be a cold day in Hell before Steve ever denies him a hug. That’s something Bucky’s now sure of. No matter what gets said in anger or the heat of the moment, Steve will give Bucky a hug just as Bucky will always give Steve a hug. 

So it’s not surprising that Steve’s hand immediately comes off the doorknob and he comes back over to Bucky. He puts his arms around him and Bucky does the same and they just stand there for a second. But when Steve goes to pull away, Bucky doesn’t let go. 

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m right here, Steve.”

“ _Enough_ , Bucky.” He’s starting to get mad. Even tries to move away again, but Bucky won’t let him. “Bucky…”

“I’m right here.”

He holds on tighter. While Steve _could_ break out of the hold if he gave it a good try, he still doesn’t. There’s a bit of a struggle, but no more than that.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he growls. “I _don’t need_ _anything_.”

Bucky hugs him tighter. “I’m right here.”

Steve tries once more to push away. And then, as if suddenly crushed under the weight of every and all things, he gives up. Surrenders to the help and support and love Bucky’s trying to give to him and clings onto Bucky the way he did when he was little. The tears come on fast and hard, and Steve buries his face between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers. “Let it out, Steve. Just let it out.”

“I… I was… I didn’t…” Steve hiccups and gasps and just cries harder. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

For the fall. He doesn’t need to clarify. Steve is still blaming himself for that even if Bucky’s sworn over and over that it’s not his fault. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, Steve.”

Trembling in Bucky’s embrace, Steve just goes on sobbing. Tears shed for a life lost and all the chaos that he’s held inside tight and strong since waking from the ice. Too afraid to let any of it out, and now it’s coming out all at once. 

That’s okay. It is. Bucky’s promised that he’s here for him and he’ll never break that promise to Steve. 

Steve continues to weep, and mumbles things about the ice and being scared and aliens and Hydra and maniacal flying robots. Bucky listens to whatever bits and pieces he can catch and says nothing. He just let's Steve get it all out, and, ninety minutes later, they’re on the floor in front of the couch. Steve is slumped over in Bucky’s lap -- still choking on a few breaths here and there, and some tears still spill but he’s a lot calmer -- while Bucky runs fingers through his hair. Rocks him gently and just keeps saying everything’ll be okay. 

“B-Bucky?”

It’s probably the most coherent thing he’s managed to get out in about half an hour. 

“I love you,” Bucky says first. “Yeah, Steve?”

He can see the soft smile on Steve’s mouth. Steve snuggles in closer to him and Bucky wipes a few tears away from his face. 

“I love you, too. You said… everyone?” he whispers. “They all… know?”

“Yeah, they know. They’ve been tryin’a help you all along.”

“They have?”

“Of course, you big dummy. They love you. Steve?”

“Mhm?”

Bucky leans in and kisses his temple. “I want you to go to those VA meetings with Sam. And call one of those doctors that Rhodey knows.”

Steve tenses under him. Doesn’t like the idea of sharing the weight of the world with anyone else. 

“But, Bucky--”

“You had me see doctors,” he reminds him. 

“That was different.”

“Why? Because I was damaged? Broken?”

“No!” Steve exclaims. Tries to sit up, but Bucky doesn’t let him. “I just… I mean…”

“You’re not alone, Steve. You don’t need to do this by yourself.”

Face scrunching, Steve sniffles and then finally nods. He turns in Bucky’s lap to look up at him. For the first time Bucky can remember, he really looks like _Steve_ again. A shadow of pain lifted away.

“Barton took me to see dogs once. Would you… maybe…”

“Maybe Tasha can help pick one with us?” Bucky suggests. “I think that’d be fun.”

“I like dogs,” Steve murmurs. “This weekend, maybe?”

Bucky smiles. “That sounds like plan. And I’ll make a deal with you.”

“Okay?”

“Stark and Dr. Cho,” he says. “They’re working on a medication that might help.” Steve’s already shaking his head. After so many medications when he was small and sick, the idea of needing one now probably turns his stomach. “My _deal_ is… if the doctors say you should take it… and think… _I_ should take it too… I…” Bucky sucks in a deep breath. “I’ll take it with you. No complaint.”

Eyebrows flying up, Steve’s mouth practically drops open. The idea must intrigue him. He’s been so focused on every step of Bucky’s recovery that he knows all about the meds they tried to use that didn’t work. If they can find something that might help him now, and if Bucky’s really willing to go along without protest, it must be hard to come up with a reason to argue. 

“ _No_ complaining?”

Bucky sighs. Ever since feeling a lot more like his old self -- not that he can ever be that man again, but he can straddle the line of that man and who he is now -- he’s been a bit more… petulant about these things. Still, he holds his hand up. 

“Scouts honor.”

Steve scans Bucky’s face, looking, Bucky thinks, for any traces of deceit. Once he’s sure Bucky’s telling the truth, a few more tears gather in his eyes and he nods before resting his head back down in Bucky’s lap again. 

“Okay, Buck.”

“So… deal?”

“Mm.” He nods. “Yeah. Deal. I love you.”

He nuzzles into Bucky’s leg and Bucky wraps his arms around him. Holds him close and kisses the top of his head. 

“I love you, too.”

Steve, wrapping a hand gently around Bucky’s ankle, hums softly. He might still be a long way from fine, but this is one brick down. 

And for a while, Bucky’ll fly them both. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This was a part of Kells' Februrary Ficlet Fest
> 
> The February Ficlet Fest are all ficlets that are based upon prompts sent to my tumblr at [thebestpersonherelovesbucky](http://thebestpersonherelovesbucky.tumblr.com/).


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